


Again

by dederants



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, M/M, scarlett johansson - Freeform, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dederants/pseuds/dederants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is at a black-tie party when he just so happens to see someone he didn't expect to see again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[ Tom is worried. Understandably so… ](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md1jrugJC31rxyyieo1_500.jpg)

The love of his life, Benedict Cumberbatch, had just crashed the event, dressed in the finest suit Spencer Hart has to offer, chatting up Scarlett Johansson across the room.

Tom’s jealousy was growing furious; he wanted so badly to pull Benedict out of the party and into a small room, to yell and scream at him,  _HOW COULD YOU DO THAT, IN MY FACE?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT DOES TO ME, HOW IT MAKES ME FEEL?!_

Benedict wouldn’t want to hear his excuses, especially considering Tom’s infidelity weeks prior to this event. Benedict has every right to talk to whoever he pleased, whether or not he and Tom were still in a relationship. And Tom knew this, as well…

Tom couldn’t help but stare while gulping down a small glass of water, putting out the flames of anger that licked at his throat. He took his eyes off of beautiful Benny, beautiful, tall, slender, wonderful Benny, deliciously delectable in his suit, looking down at the glass in his hand for a moment. By the time he looked up, Benedict was walking in his general direction.

 _He’ll just walk past me_ , thought Tom.  _Right past me… cruel, but I deserve it…_

He looked down at the glass for comfort, to ease the pain.

“Tom…”

 _Oh, my god_ , Tom thought. Looking up, he saw Benedict standing before him. 

“Benedict,” replied Tom with a nod. “How are you doing?”

“Well,” said Benedict, his voice deeper and darker than Tom remembered. “Hope all is well with you, Tom.”

Tom could only respond with a nod. Too afraid of what could come out of his own mouth, and he didn’t want to say more than necessary.

Tom, looking at his empty glass and glancing back at Benedict, built up some courage. “Did you come here with someone?” he said with a smile.

“Don’t.” Benedict saw right through that sad smile. “Not now.”

Tom’s smile faded, his face returning to the glum expression it held earlier.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said, in a sad, soft tone. He wanted to say more…

“It’s all fine,” said Benedict. 

Both men knew, no matter what either said, it wouldn’t make things better between them, the relationship would never be re-kindled. It was over. 

Tom gave Benedict a final glance, lasting nearly half a minute, with furrowed brows. Finally, Tom strode past Benedict, leaving the party altogether. Benedict took a deep breath, open-mouthed, holding back tears and swallowing sobs. He then turned and walked quickly over to a small, dimly lit corner with seats lining the wall. Moments after he sat down…

Scarlett knelt before him, a vision in red, holding a small glass of water.

Benedict took the glass with his right hand, his face covered by his left, tears streaming down his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict can't get over the encounter with Tom, his ex, at the black-tie event...

Benedict was in his flat, had just arrived actually. He hadn’t sat on the bed five seconds before he broke down into wailing sobs. He’d just seen the love of his life step out of it for good, and no amount of consoling anyone gave Benedict could come close to healing that giant wound. Tonight didn’t go the way he’d planned it out on his way to the party, and there was no way Tom would want to listen to his “excuses”.

He knew it was over, but denied the truth. 

Then his cell phone rang. He desperately hoped it was Tom, but he soon began to sob more once he saw it was Scarlett. He loved Scarlett, she is, was and always will be a wonderful and dear friend, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone who wasn’t Tom. Benedict questioned in his mind whether he actually wanted to talk to Tom, see his beautiful face, hear his smooth, luxurious voice. It’d be torture, he realized. 

With his shirt collar wet with tears and his eyes red and puffy, Benedict turned on the shower faucet, stripped down to nothing, and stepped into the steaming shower. The hot water ran down the length of his body, soothing his already tense muscles. Benedict let the water run down his face, relieving the puffiness in his eyes. Then emotion and thoughts of events prior came flooding back into his conscience, and the tears began to flow once more. He was now disappointed that he couldn’t get a moment to himself, that he couldn’t escape the hurt. He thought the scolding hot water would take his mind away from it. His arm held him up against the wall of the shower as he cried into it.

Benedict would dress himself in his most comfortable pyjamas, turn the bedroom lights off in his already dark flat, and tuck himself in, but it’d be another three hours and a wet pillow before he exhaustedly cried himself to sleep. He’d awake an hour or two later from the nightmare of finding Tom lying in a pool of blood in his own apartment, Benedict finding his lifeless body after having an earlier premonition and rushing over to Tom’s flat. The butt of a gun loosely fitted inn Tom’s palm, the entry wound at Tom’s right temple, lukewarm blood slowly oozing out of it.

Benedict thought to call Tom to see if he was alright, but knew he’d be met with his voicemail. _Hello, this is Tom. Much apologies for not answering, but if you leave a message, I shall gladly get back to you._ That voice killed Benedict’s heart, now that he won’t be able to hear it in person any longer. 

“But he’s not dead”, Benedict told himself. “He’s not dead.”

_But he’s supposed to be dead to me. I loved him, and he’s done me wrong. There’s no coming back from that..._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after coming across a photo of Tom Hiddleston while surfing a new follower's blog, and the expression on Tom's face in the photo prompted me to re-blog it with a ficlet, because I ship Tom/Benedict with a passion. Hope you guys enjoyed the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it on a whim...


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